


The Little Painting

by Castor_loves_Courgette



Series: ExR Week 2017 [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcoholism, Enjolras doesn't like art, Grantaire is confused, Love, M/M, Painting, Self-Hatred, enjoltaireweek2017, exrweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castor_loves_Courgette/pseuds/Castor_loves_Courgette
Summary: Enjolras owns a little painting in his appartment. It is the biggest mystery of Grantaire's life.





	The Little Painting

**Author's Note:**

> First day of ExR week 2017 !  
> "Painting"

It was commonly known that Enjolras was not an art person. He could enjoy it and had already been seen in art museums, but it really was not « his thing ». So, of course, the biggest mystery in Grantaire's life was that painting in Enjolras's bedroom.

See, Enjolras did not decorate his appartment with paintings or drawings. He had pictures of all his friends and he had plants, he even had _flags_ , but no piece of art. Except that painting.

Grantaire could spend hours staring at that painting. It was not really big, maybe the size of a book, and it was hideous. Which made the mystery even bigger. It depicted a man sitting at a table, bottle of wine in hand. He was badly shaved, his hair was a dirty mess, his nose was big and red, his body was flabby like the body of a drunk man. Which he was. A pathetic alcoholic. The atmosphere of the painting was so gloomy, it gave bad chills to Grantaire.

One day, Grantaire could not bare it anymore. He asked Enjolras.

« My painting ? I bought it years ago in a flea market. »

« Yes, but why ? »

Enjolras's cheeks went red, and he looked tenderly at the pathetic alcoholic. Grantaire was more confused than ever.

« It reminded me of you. »

Grantaire stared at Enjolras as if he had just stabbed him. He did not know what to say. All he knew was that cold feeling attacking his guts, his throat, everything in him. He felt disgusted. By the painting, by Enjolras and by himself.

« So... you see me as a dirty, pathetic alcoholic ? What reminded you the most of me in that fucking painting, his red nose ? The wine bottle glued to his hand ? Or just the

disgusting stink of failure that comes out of it ? »

Enjolras frowned. He had underestimated the hate Grantaire had for himself, again. Seeing his boyfriend was about to explode, he took a deep breathe and answered in a very calm voice.

« No. Grantaire, listen. Look at his eyes. It's the first thing I noticed in him. They look so clever. There's a light in them. Not a drunken light, a real, pure light of wit. »

Grantaire reluctantly looked at the painting again. He did not want to hear any excuse, but he still obeyed, because Enjolras looked serious, and he was never serious without a good reason.

« Now look at his hands. Yes, they are clasping a bottle of wine. But look at the details. Those are delicate hands. Soft hands. Beautiful hands. »

As he spoke, Enjolras took Grantaire's hand in his own.

« I love his smile. It's sad, but warm at the same time. I don't know how that can be, but it is. Has to do with his eyes, maybe. »

Grantaire chuckled. He squeezed Enjolras's hand.

« He still looks pathetic to me. »

Enjolras smiled and kissed his boyfriend's temple.

« That's why I'm here. To remind him to shave and stay hydrated. It's not much, but at least he knows he's not alone. »

 


End file.
